Blacks and Whites
by Paradox en Vogue
Summary: Adopted from Living Paradox after his death. Sly goes after a wallstreet titan who steals his family's fortune. Carmelita stirs everything up, and what's this about a murder? See Raleigh, Sly, Carmelita, and others in this epic adventure.
1. Operation Fortune

**Author Notes: This is an adoption of Living Paradox's original story Blacks and Whites will special permission from some of his readers critics. Please read his original work in the first two chapters. Chapter 3 and everything after is built off of his original story notes, but I my writing in attempt to emulate his style. Please help me in preserving his memory.**

Damn that Carmelita. She was always getting onto the scene right as the gang began making major moves. "You know, for once I wish Carmelita would wait until we're done before moving in," Sly spoke into the mic on his goggles.

"You're just gonna have to avoid her seeing you Sly," Bentley began. "The window for the guard change is only seven point three five one seconds at best. And for once, would you leave the romantic woos until after the main job is done? Now, you have to get to the computer room on the ninth floor. Joan de Brive will be making the transaction at ten thirty precisely."

"That little skunk-man is going to wish he had never even dreamed of the Cooper family treasure," the raccoon spoke before leaping up to a rail and scaling the fire escape. He needed to use the adjacent apartment building to get to an upper balcony before silently cutting a window and getting into the immense skyscraper. Joan de Brive was a business man with cunning on par with his own. He wasn't arrogant though, so he made for a very difficult man to swindle from. The skunk was a master of the stock trade as well, stealing millions and millions from the people of New York. Maybe that was why Carmelita had shown up…the only information the gang could find was in Interpol HQ…in a file…which Sly had taken a peak at after breaking in. The escape from that place, it still gave him chills. Carmelita had most likely figured out which file was tampered with and followed the Cooper gang here. It was a Sly-Bentley only job too, so Murray was anxious and a bit angry. This whole job was out of whack.

"Alright," Bentley began as Sly attached himself to the office window, suction cups holding his feet and one hand to the glass. "Use the diamond tip, and make sure you make a hole big enough to fit Murray through in case things get bad. Don't let it break." These jobs were not Sly's favorites by any means. They were tedious, long, and too precise even for him. "Good, now make it to the eighth floor stairwell. A guard is posted at the door to the ninth floor. When he leaves for break, you need to instantly get moving. The next guard will be there in less than thirty seconds. Also, it seems Carmelita brought backup with her, a bit more than usual, Joan's guards may not be the only thing you have to look out for. I'm moving the van to a more escapable position. I'll make sure the cow ram is warmed up too. Injury to world detectives is far less severe than death." The device was the same thing you would find on the front of an old coal train; if cows were on the tracks, they'd get pushed to the side instead of getting run over and possibly derailing the train. Bentley was a genius to be sure.

"Okay, the guard's leaving. I'm going in," Sly spoke as he darted to the door. The next guard, however, turned the corner when he arrived. "Crud!" His adversary came at him with a nightstick, but Sly got him with sleeping smoke before he could yell and raise the alarm. "A little memory eraser to top it off…and we're clear."

"Good," Bentley spoke as Sly made it down the ninth floor hall. "It's the seventh room on the left. Access code: 7738902714B6KK91"

"Who makes a sixteen-digit security code anyway?" Sly inquired.

"Someone who wanted a person to get caught even if they knew the whole thing," the turtle replied. "It's so long that you would be discovered during the day. Joan is no slouch. Now, get to the trades computer in cubicle C-3. The password is Batten_rouge."

"Wonder why he chose that…" the raccoon spoke into the air. "I'm in. Now, just plug in your little gadget into the USB port?"

"Correct, and set it to decrypt," Bentley returned. "Murray, I think the two-way street over there is good camouflage." The team wasn't even using their trademark blue van this time, just a modified black SUV, very modified. Carmelita would need keener eyes to catch them in New York if they didn't have their distinct calling card with them. "Alright, I'm getting the data. He's…damnable fiend!"

"What is it?" Sly asked. He heard the footsteps of a guard outside the door, but they passed without pause.

"He's sending your family's money to Raleigh in Vancouver."

"That slimy toad will NEVER get what my family worked so hard for. Thieving isn't for the lazy lowlifes like Raleigh. Taking it from some associate who snuck it right off the island…Joan was good; I'll give him that with all respect…but Raleigh…is the one man I wouldn't hesitate to kill at this point. How can we reroute it?"

"I think the best thing to do at this point Sly is put a reroute after Raleigh gets it," Bentley replied. "Joan and he are currently talking about the transaction. If the money completely disappears now, they'll know for sure it was you, and they'd be able to prove it was us who stole it. It wouldn't be the same as the rest of our jobs. Those couldn't be traced if we gave Interpol fifty years. This is just too risky Sly. I've got a tracer and root program ready. I'm attaching it to Joan's mainframe and reprogramming the antivirus. Anything sent from here, Joan's bank accounts, his laptop, anywhere…we can trace it, attach roots to Raleigh's computer, and route it back to any place we can heist it from. For now, just get out of there."

"Done," Sly spoke as he unplugged Bentley's device and stowed it in his pouch.

"Search this whole floor!" Carmelita yelled from down the hall.

"Damn!" Sly spat. He sprang out of the room.

"Cooper!" she yelled. Five men dropped to their knees before opening fire. Sly sprang out the window, breaking it before falling to the hotel roof below. He turned to see shock bolts flying toward him. Carmelita was following too. Was she mad? She had jumped from so high, and she seemed to have almost a hateful look on her face. It was now that Sly noticed: there was a lot of light below. "We've got you this time!" Carmelita declared, the fox shooting at him fervently. Sly found Apes quickly scaling the wall nearest the main street. Had the woman brought all of Interpol with her? Sly ran and jumped, ducked and rolled as he tried to elude his rather dangerous and furious pursuer.

"Sly, what in Hell is going on?" Bentley asked in worry over the mic. "She found you?"

"Yeah, and things really don't look good Bentley," Sly replied with actual worry in his voice. He was running faster than he ever had, running for his life, and not in a good way. After jumping to the next building, a helicopter came up overhead. "Oh no," Sly panted. He heard the shock pistol and dodged. Bentley's AC chopper came in and started to distract Interpol's pilot however. Carmelita and a couple cops pursued him to the next building, but only she remained as they jumped to the fourth, her gun blazing in complete rage. The raccoon turned. "I know you're still mad about the me not really having amnesia Carmelita, but do you want me back so much you need all of Interpol to catch me? I'll admit, I was almost cornered."

"You still are Cooper!" the fox yelled. "You know full well why I'm here! Come quietly, and I may choose not to shock you to death." The woman seemed to be in a real fury. "Juan, now!" Sly turned, and a man who had been hiding on his right fired at him. He only barely dodged as Carmelita came running in. It turned into hand-to-hand combat, and Sly used his cane to block as best he could. The man named Juan was in fact a tiger. He fired once in a while, making his fight with Carmelita much more difficult. "I will put you in jail tonight if it is…the…**last**…thing I **DO!**" Carmelita punched so hard that Sly's cane split in half, her gloved fist getting the raccoon square in the face. He staggered back, nose bleeding profusely, dizzy, looking at the two halves of his family's prized possession. Sly looked up in confusion before a shock bullet knocked him out painfully, him yelling before collapsing.

"Sly! Sly!" Bentley yelled into the mic, receiving no response. Murray stepped on the gas hard. "No!" he harshly told his friend. "Not all of Interpol, not here. We'll get him out after we regroup," he spoke with tears in his eyes.

Murray looked at his friend in fury before tearing up and driving back to their temporary base. "Sly…" he wheezed. It was painful to think about what was happening. Sly…the best friend he had, partner in crime, best thief in the world, was caught?...

"Good job deputy…" Carmelita told her partner emotionlessly. Sly Cooper, her rival, criminal, thief…courter…lie unconscious at her feet. She stepped on the earpiece and broke it before picking up her perp by the collar of his shirt. "Get him in cuffs. I'll take the cane." Sly was cuffed and chained in the back of an Interpol prisoner carrier, and they disappeared, the only evidence being a shattered window, and one with a hole fit for a hippo.

Sly awoke painfully in the back of the truck as it drove. He found Carmelita sitting across from him with an icy stare. "What on Earth…" SLAP! Carmelita hit him, hard. Sly had been slapped once by her, the woman feeling hurt and insulted, and while it stung, it wasn't like this. She was trying to hurt Sly. He teared up.

"You monster," she spoke venomously. Sly couldn't think of a single reason why the woman would call him that, and frankly, he didn't know if he wanted to find out the reason. "Lying, stealing, toying with me…but of all the lawless things you've done, why Sly?" she yelled as she gripped Sly by the front of his shirt and picked him up. Their faces were only inches apart.

"Carmelita," he grunted, "I honestly don't know what you mean." The woman pounded him against the side of the truck, making him wince and grunt. "Hey, that actually hurts."

"A monster like you doesn't feel pain," the woman spoke as she punched him again. Sly fell unconscious, and she sat down again and cried.

**Author Notes: Review please! This is my first ever Sly cooper fic and I'd really like some feedback.**


	2. Broken Wills

**Author Notes: Chapter two is here! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. And for Pete's sake, I AM NOT RACIST! It's a theme of "the grey area," things are not always black and white. How stupid can you people be? I know it's not all of you.**

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**The Interrogation**

Sly woke up in a small, barely lit room cuffed to a chair. He felt sore and dizzy and really wanted some water. Carmelita came through the door with her partner from earlier that night. The raccoon looked at her in confusion and worry. The woman seemed ready to kill him earlier. Now she seemed, at least a _bit_ calmer. "I know you didn't beat me up this bad just because I broke into HQ and looked at a file," Sly began with his usual charm in his voice. "What am I here for?"

"Are you really so dense, or do you just want to toy with me more?" Carmelita asked, raising her voice in hurt.

"I may be playful Carmelita," Sly replied, a more serious tone taking root, "but I have never done anything to purposely hurt you." The woman tried to beat the Hell out of him again, but her deputy stopped her as Sly tried to push away.

"Officer, you must control yourself," Juan spoke, although he looked at Sly darkly too. "You, Mr. Sly cooper are being charged with the murder of Rodrigo Montoya Fox." Sly's face fell, eye's widened in shock. Everything was silent and still. Then Carmelita's sniffling broke the silence, her tears piercing Sly to the core.

"Why?" she asked softly.

"Rodrigo Fox? Your dad was murdered?" Carmelita slapped him hard, a hand slipped from the grip of her deputy who then re-restrained his commanding officer. Sly took a few breaths. "Carmelita, it wasn't"

"Like Hell!" the woman screamed. She opened a file and spilt the pictures onto the table. Carmelita forced Sly's head close to them. His eyes went wide in shock again. "You left your calling card…right on his dead body." Sly sat there, motionless. It wasn't true. Carmelita kicked him in the gut, tipping him over before walking out of the room, Sly spitting blood and nearly falling unconscious again. Juan stayed behind and checked on him though.

"You need medical treatment for your injuries," he stated calmly, almost as if he didn't care. He picked the chair up and began walking towards the door.

"Wait…" Sly breathed. The tiger turned to him emotionlessly. "Tell Carmelita, I'm so sorry that her dad died. I really am; he was a good man…but it wasn't me. I've never killed anyone…you can…ask, her." Sly fell unconscious, and Juan checked his pulse.

"Get me a medic!" he yelled towards the mirror.

Carmelita sat outside of the raccoon's room as the doctors worked on him. "His internal bleeding has been stopped, but he will not likely be able to hold himself up for a while," a doctor reported. "His left wrist has been sprained, and one of his ribs is cracked. Also, we believe his lower jaw was fractured too." Carmelita couldn't believe she'd damaged Sly so much, not that she cared. That monster had ruined her life.

"I brought you coffee," Juan spoke as he came up next to her. She thanked the deputy before taking a sip. "Has Sly Cooper ever been known to murder people before this?" he asked.

"Why are you asking?" Carmelita replied. The tiger shrugged his shoulders. "I can't recall having casualties involved with any of his cases, but that doesn't mean he's incapable." His boss spoke with such harshness, something the tiger had never heard from her. Clearly, these two had a relationship of sorts.

"The reason I asked," the man began, "was because he asked me to give you a message." The woman turned her head slightly towards him. "He said he was deeply sorry for your loss, and your father was a good man." Carmelita closed her eyes. "He continued on to say that it wasn't him who murdered your father. Sly has never killed anyone, and that I would hear the same from you." The woman shook her head.

"We're testing his cane for the injury type on my father, and he left his calling card. There are reports from witnesses too of a shadowy figure moving about the roofs that night," Carmelita spoke. "I didn't want to believe it, but it was Sly."

"The patient is awake and stable if you want to talk to him," a nurse spoke with the door open. Juan stepped in first, but Sly's gaze went straight to Carmelita when she walked in.

"Carmelita," he began. "It wasn't me. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it. I would never hurt you or your family like this. I was framed. You know me." Juan listened to his words, analyzing. It sounded like the words of a very good friend if not a lover.

"We're currently testing your cane for the injury type, and if it comes up positive, you'll end up with the death sentence," Carmelita replied evenly. Sly was silent. He seemed hurt by her words.

"It is innocent until proven guilty," Juan added in. "I believe any suspect should be given at least a chance to prove his or her innocence. Is that not a standard of our law?" he asked. Carmelita simply turned to look out at the midnight sky.

"Just get some rest before tomorrow Cooper," she spoke before leaving. Sly and Juan met gazes before the tiger left as well. The raccoon fell asleep, wondering who on Earth hated him so much that he or she would be willing to frame him for the murder of a world detective he or she hated so much to have him killed. Then there was also Bentley and Murray. What were they up to? Were they safe?

The next morning was a bit of a strange wakeup considering the last two the raccoon had had. Carmelita wasn't in front of him and ready to strangle what life he had left out of his neck. He wasn't bound to his bed by cuffs either, not that the thief could walk even if he tried. "That Carmelita, always shooting first asking questions later," Sly spoke into the air.

"What's your relationship with my boss anyway?" asked Juan. He had apparently been sitting in a nearby chair the whole time. Sly was surprised that he hadn't noticed. "You two seem to know each other a lot more than her other criminals. From what I know, she's been chasing your gang for six years, a long time to be able to elude her."

"It's hard to believe she and I have been playing cop and robber for that long," Sly sighed. "We took down Clockwerk together, the man who murdered my father and many of the Cooper Clan. He replaced his body with a machine just so that he would be able to live long enough to exterminate my family."

"He sounds like a very jealous and obsessed man," Juan replied.

"A few years back, the gang was going to steal the Clockwerk parts from a museum so that he'd never live again, but the Claw Gang beat us to it. On top of it all, Constable Neila and The Contessa were a part of it. Neila became the new Clockwerk after we infiltrated Arpeggio's aerial fortress. When we won and destroyed the hate chip, the parts just withered away. Carmelita turned on us, and I couldn't sacrifice Murray and Bentley who had broken his legs in Clockla's jaws. I said I'd go quietly if she let my team go. I jumped right out of the helicopter, and she found a card and wine in her office the next morning." Sly laughed, remembering his adolescent antics. "Then we hit our glory days," he continued. "Dimitri, Murray, Penelope, The Guru, The Panda King…we all teamed up to take down Doctor M. Right at the end, Carmelita saved me from this huge monster, and she decided to run in when I was finishing my fight with the good doctor. I took a laser blast and got slammed against the wall to protect her. She, didn't take too kindly to being rescued by a criminal, so she beat M to a pulp. He, decided to stay behind with my family's treasure, and he was crushed under the rocks when the vault collapsed. Carmelita took me to Interpol, thinking that I had amnesia from the impact. I played it up for two weeks before admitting the truth. She was pissed off for sure, but not like this. Whatever monster killed her dad is gonna pay when I get my hands on him. No one frames a Cooper for murder." He winced as he sat up, and Juan told him to rest.

"Your story matches the ones in your files, so it seems you're at least trustworthy," the tiger spoke. "If Clockwerk is dead, and Raleigh was your target last night, then who remains that would have the motive to frame you?" he asked toward the raccoon. Sly looked down and closed his eyes.

"Mugshot is too stupid, Mz. Ruby is still locked up…Dimitri as far as I know is on my side now. The same goes for the Panda King. Arpeggio's dead. I suppose Octavio would have motive, but to attack a world detective takes more bravado than he's got. Jean Bison and The Contessa might, but I haven't heard wind of them in a long time. Rajan would probably be the most likely suspect, because Le Fwee doesn't have the resources or the brains, and Tsao is still locked up."

"As is Rajan," Juan replied. "So, we have no easy suspects." Sly looked down again. "Justice will prevail Mr. Cooper," he spoke. "If you are innocent, we will find you innocent."

"That's not the point!" the raccoon yelled, tears in his eyes. "That she would even believe it…means that she doesn't care about me," Sly spoke softer. "Carmelita…was always like an annoying sister or mother, always poking her nose into my work when it was half-done. I thought she had a thing for me, even if we were on opposite sides of the law, and she seemed to go along with it to a point. Last night, she showed me no mercy. Good shot by the way," he complimented to the tiger. Juan smiled and chuckled. "Maybe all of this has just been a waste then."

"I wouldn't count on it," the tiger returned. "If you're innocent, she'll probably fall for you the same way she always did." He spotted his commanding officer coming down the hall. "Unfortunately, our friendly talk will have to wait until later." Carmelita walked in, and Sly gave her a hurt look, not like a puppy, but it showed.

"I apologize for injuring you so severely, Sly, but while you're under investigation, you'll have a tracking anklet on and won't be able to step outside of Paris," Carmelita began. "You'll be under my supervision, which means any evidence tampering will be in plain sight." Sly nodded, silent. Carmelita attached the anklet before continuing. "You'll be in the hospital until tonight, and then we've rented a hotel room for you at the address here, and the key is on your side table." Carmelita handed the raccoon a small piece of paper with the address before taking her deputy out into the hall.

"I observed nothing that hints at him being your father's killer," the tiger spoke.

"He's Sly; hiding and seeking is what he does," Carmelita replied softly. "We're waiting for the weapon test to come back in the meantime. It's been a while since I was in Paris. Last time was when I was chasing Sly and Dimitri. We began our investigation of the illegal spice after the printing press bust too. Sly's helped me catch a lot of criminals, and we took out a whole syndicate. Speaking of which, have we gained any information from our investigation of the Black Sabres guild?"

"They seem to be a relatively new and unorganized group of assassins," Juan replied. "Currently they're just thieving little bits of supplies, but they don't have enough skill to avoid detection or actually kill someone. We're dusting the smithy down in Bordeaux for prints."

"You know Carmelita, getting beaten half to Hell left me kinda hungry," called Sly mischievously as he slowly walked down the hall, his ribs most likely restricting his movement. The woman turned in surprise: he shouldn't have yet been able to stand.

"What are you doing out of your bed already Mr. Cooper?" Juan asked as he went to aid in his walk. "With your injury, at least one more day of bed rest would be in your best interests."

"I'd say I've taken worse, but I'd be lying," Sly spoke. He clearly should not have been standing, but he refused to simply lie around. "I can walk, but I won't be jumping or running off anytime soon, so, don't worry." He smiled at Carmelita who switched from surprise to contempt. "I haven't eaten in two days…would you like to show me your favorite restaurant?" Juan eyed his boss. She let out a breath through tight lips.

"Fine," the woman groaned. They walked, slowly, out of HQ and down the road to a little back-alley place. "It's at places like these that you find the best food," Carmelita spoke, still emotionless in her tone. They walked in to find six tables and a man behind a podium.

"Ah, Carmelita my sweet, your usual table I presume?" the man asked, ticking Sly off with his tone and completely suave acting. He scowled. Carmelita nodded. "Magnifique! I'll have Larón prepare your usual?" The woman nodded again. "I'll bring menus for your guests then." The little twig-man showed the group of them to a window-side table and dropped completely French menus in front of them.

"I assume you'll need this to read it," Carmelita spoke, taking out Bentley's translator from Sly's pouch. Apparently she was making sure he had zero chance of escaping. He took the device from her and scanned the menu top to bottom.

"It translates vocally too," he spoke. "Épinards et quiche à l'oignon." Carmelita rolled her eyes. "We can't all have the international linguistic mastery that you have now can we?"

"Keep prodding Cooper, and I will make sure I break your hands this time," the fox replied darkly. Sly was surprised, and he became silent, quietly ordering his spinach and onion quiche when the annoying waiter returned.

The meal passed rather quietly after that, Sly barely picking at his food. After they finished, the three walked outside, Carmelita taking back the translator. "You're basically free to go wherever inside the city until your trial in Luxembourg. I'm heading to the crime lab to get injury test results back," Carmelita spoke.

"I'm going too," Sly replied. The woman turned on him instantly, staring him down coldly. "I, did _not _murder your father Carmelita, and damn it if I don't get a chance to prove that." The woman was surprised, but she didn't show it much.

"Then you'll be searched and need to be cleared before we enter," Juan spoke up. "And there are surveillance cameras covering every square inch of the room…. I just wanted you to be informed." The fox turned, walking towards headquarters, the boys following not too far behind.

"Can I have my cane back once we know it wasn't the weapon?" Sly asked.

"Not until the investigation is closed," Carmelita replied back. "Speaking of which, your trial for breaking into Interpol and reading top secret information will be in about ten days here in Paris." This time it was Sly who got in front of her, and his stare was just as angry as hers had been.

"How about we make a fair deal?" he asked, tongue ready to slice at anything which could be fired back.

"I'm listening," Carmelita replied.

"In exchange for full-time assistance in catching your father's murderer, I want immunity from any other current charges," Sly replied.

"You'll be immunized for the breaking and entering, theft, and security threat charges, but as per your thieving jobs, you'll just have to last through court for those," Carmelita replied. Sly knew he'd made progress, and at this point, if he could stay on her good side, when they caught the murderer, she'd pass him immunization for everything else.

"Fine," Sly spoke. "Shall we then?" he asked. They walked back to HQ; the group headed right to the examination room. Sly and the others were patted down for wires. Everything was removed from their pockets, and Carmelita left the bag of gadgets in a cubby.

"Doctor Waldstein," Carmelita spoke almost nostalgically. "I'm here for the weapon test results. Can you tell us anything?"

"Your father suffered blunt force trauma to the head and several organs in his abdomen," the man replied. So far the cane matched. "But that's where the similarities in damage between the cane and the murder weapon end. The damage is layered, a strike covering a wide range to make the bruises, and then smaller, circular blows were made. I'm guessing the weapon had retractable spikes so to speak. It would knock any man off his feet.

"I could have Bentley look up anything similar if you want on the black market," Sly offered. Carmelita remained silent.

"In an international investigation," Juan began, "use of illegal sources is a very thin rope to walk. Verification is required."

"And if I could find and steal the weapon?" Sly asked.

"We won't be allowed to let you leave the eyes of Interpol now that you've been officially captured. Once your accomplices gain contact with you, we will know it and have them arrested as well."

"You'd be sabotaging your own investigation," Sly spoke darkly. "I know I'm a thief. I always will be, but Bentley and Murray are different. Bentley just wants the mental challenge of coming up with plans to take down slime balls like Raleigh and Rajan. And Murray just wants to defend his friends. They're not getting caught up in my problem!"

"You are all accomplices and therefore can all be tried for the crimes you've committed," Juan calmly replied. Sly just stared at him angrily.

"Enough," Carmelita began quietly. "Sly, go to your hotel. We'll decide where to go from here in the morning."

"Fine," the raccoon replied bitterly as he turned around to leave. "When should I come in the morning?"

"If you can be here by nine-thirty that would be best," the woman replied without turning to him. Sly disappeared silently. Carmelita looked over the data stoically, as though the shock was still building.

"He's certainly nobler than our other criminals," the tiger spoke.

"Sly **is** different," Carmelita replied. "Maybe that's why I could never catch him."

"Officer?"

"Go home Juan," the woman replied evenly. Her deputy, stunned, left without a word.

**Author Notes: Review please! Thanks again to those that did.**


	3. Cold Waters, Old Wounds and New

**Author Notes: This is where the adoption of Blacks and Whites begins. At this point, I'm going off some base ideas left behind by the original author, but this is an attempt to preserve the memory of Living Paradox, his style, and his work. **

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When Sly had gone to bed last night, he was angry and confused, but now he could barely register anything in his head. A: there was a clean set of clothes on the dresser in his hotel room, B: there was a mysterious black phone with them, and C: he couldn't help but feel he was being watched.

Sly decided it would be best to take a shower considering his sore muscles, and luckily there was hot water for once. Thoughts traveled to Carmelita as he tried to loosen up. What would happen now that they proved he wasn't the killer? Who was the killer? Also, would Sly be worth anything to her anymore?

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he went back to his room to change. When he was putting on his shirt, the black phone began ringing. Whether or not he should answer it only briefly passed through his brain. He picked it up and pressed receive before listening to the silence…

"Sly?" a familiar voice asked.

"Bentley," the raccoon sighed. "Listen, Bentley, you and Murray need to lie low for a while. Interpol's got me collared in every sense. They probably know you're trying to contact me."

"I know Sly," the turtle replied. "We just had to know if you were alright. We'll get you out of there soon."

"No," Sly replied quickly. "Listen, Carmelita's father was murdered, and I'm their prime suspect. I need you to search the black market for something." The turtle was at his computer as hastily as possible. "The weapon used created a large bruise with deeper, circular bruises about an inch and a half wide inside the main one; it seems the weapon has either shallow but wide, circular parts covering it, or it has retractable spikes."

"It's enough to go on," the turtle replied. "Sly, I really must insist you get out of there. Murray's a wreck, and if he decides to act on his own, I won't be able to stop him. We'll find a way to deal with the anklet if you let me see it."

"I'm being watched Bentley, and for once, being near Carmelita sounds better than running," Sly replied. "Listen, tell Murray I'm fine and thinking about you guys, but there are some things I need to take care of first. Don't try to get a phone to me again. I'll see you somewhere on the streets of Paris, but you'll have to watch for tails."

"Sly wait!...Sly!...SLY!" CRACK. The raccoon broke the phone in his hands before letting it drop out his window to the street below. "Huuuugh," the turtle groaned. "One of these days when the reconstructive surgery is done on my legs, I'll smack you in the head for this Sly…. Nevertheless, time to make a few phone calls."

It was about 8:30 when the raccoon walked into the elevator. Even at his limited pace, he'd make it to HQ on time to meet up with Carmelita and her partner. The walk was uneventful until he stumbled across a mugging. This mole was on his knees, cowering under the gaze of two very horrid-looking rats.

"Hey fellas, want a real catch?" he yelled at them. The two rats hissed at him before chasing him away from the civilian. Said mole got up and ran down the street in the opposite direction. "Oh come on, this is a snail's pace." Truth be told, it was as fast as he could go. He ducked into an alley, jumped over a stack of crates, and toppled it when his adversaries neared.

While the rats tried to get out from under the debris, Sly ran off toward Interpol HQ only to get stopped in his tracks by his cracked rib. "Agh!" he growled when the pain ripped through him. The raccoon held himself for a few short moments before taking an alley shortcut. It was around nine-fifteen, so he just swiftly walked into Interpol.

The eyes watching him were cold and emotionless, piercing as they noted every movement. He let the guards pat him down before checking in with the receptionist. "I'm here on investigation business with Carmelita Fox," he said evenly. The woman handed him a temporary pass key and let him on his way.

"Hello Mr. Cooper. You're right on time," called the familiar tiger as he came up the hall. "The boss was a tad out of sorts yesterday, so let's find out what the fuss is together shall we?" Miss Fox was walking up the hallway with a few files in her arms. She was reading and missed the two as she continued into her office.

"Carmelita?" the raccoon asked, only to have her whirl around and prepare for attack. He covered his head, but the woman sighed.

"Sorry, I'm on edge, never left the office last night," Carmelita began as she plopped down in her desk chair and logged into her computer. "So far there are no immediate leads or suspects, so we're going to go through the list of the purps he caught over his life. Hopefully something in my Dad's old case files will give us a clue."

"There's so many files…" Sly spoke aloud. "How many?"

"Total purps captured: four-hundred ninety-seven," Carmelita replied. Sly gawked. "But the total number of cases is under a hundred and fifty. Had he been able to solidly link _your_ parents to their crimes and then you, Sly, it would have been a perfect five-hundred."

"Well, I guess they still got their due justice, right?" the raccoon asked passively, though his expression darkened. Carmelita had stopped typing and turned back to the man.

"No, they were murdered in cold blood Sly," she told him. "And we brought their murderers to justice, together."

"ONLY CLOCKWERK GOT WHAT HE DESERVED!" Sly roared. The woman watched him in pity. He shook before settling a bit to speak again. "The Panda King repented for it, and I saw how much he regretted it. But what about Raleigh? And Mugshot? They're out there roaming free, and that slimy toad made some deal with De Brive and got my entire family's fortune. He's walking around with over a thousand years of my family's work to ruin bastards like him! THAT'S NOT OKAY CARMELITA!"

"AND WE'LL GET HIM FOR IT!" the woman returned. Sly grabbed his side and grunted, almost falling on his side, but he managed to steady his legs. "Listen, Sly, I know you're not completely over the trauma of watching your parents die, but if you help me, and if you don't go off on your own, we will lock them both up for life."

"Why?..." Sly breathed. Juan's eyes narrowed. The raccoon fell to his knees, though he seemed more crumpled than injured. He was heaving before audible rasps began piercing the silence. "Why…Why did you think it was me…HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY BELIEVE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ME!" Carmelita saw the pain in her captive's eyes, but she could not make herself answer him. It was her fault that Sly was currently suffering, and her answer would both be foolish and more detrimental. After Sly had sworn his innocence and cooperation, Carmelita had carefully inspected the familiar blue and white card which had been left on her father's corpse. It turned out the material did not at all match the various samples of Sly's calling cards.

The little raccoon symbols were always silk woven over a special waterproof paper. This was a shoddy cotton and leather imitation, and it smacked her hard when she found out. Also, the shape of the eyes was slightly off, though it was purposely imitating the Cooper visage. After all that…Sly was finally in her custody, but it felt wrong. There was no clever capture, fun chase, no playful chats along the way. She had broken his cane, punched the daylights out of him, and then she'd broken his ribs and wrist. "If there was a satisfying answer, I'd tell you," the fox-woman spoke. Sly just choked and groaned in his sorrow.

Juan knelt down and put his hand gently on Sly's shoulder only to have it violently thrown away. The raccoon dashed down the hall into the men's room before locking himself in a stall. "Far be it from me to intrude into my boss's personal life, but there is no denying that man cares deeply for you."

"It can't be helped," Carmelita answered. "Life hasn't been fair to either of us."

"But at least he chose to try comforting you, to be there for you," the tiger almost snapped back. "Sly has more honor in him than the common man, let alone a thief; you have forgotten to respect that part of him."

"You are overstepping your role constable," Carmelita began.

"Pardon me, but shove it captain." The woman was petrified as she turned toward her subordinate. Juan was giving her a rather steely gaze. "Your nickname in this office is 'Old Iron Sides,' it fits…cold as iron."

"Get out of this office now officer," Carmelita spoke dangerously. The tiger gave a slight growl as he turned, leaving her office and catching the elevator. When he was gone, the woman slumped into her chair, head dropping into her hands as she internally admitted just how much she had hurt Sly. Tears stung her eyes, but she would be strong; she wouldn't be caught bemoaning the thief's (and her's) loss in Interpol HQ. She collected herself and waltzed down to the men's room; the raccoon's sniffling and sobbing echoing off the tile and walls. "Sly…I'm not going to lie and say I don't care, but you only have two choices. You can stay in there crying all day; or you can come out, we'll talk, we'll fight a bit, and we'll work on catching whoever did this. I may have been at this for years, but it's always better to have an extra set of eyes on the papers."

"I want to know one thing," the calmed raccoon interjected. "Why…even for a moment…did you think I was capable of something like this."

"Cooper…" the investigator sighed.

"I want to know Carmelita…don't I deserve that much after all these years?" The woman internally groaned. Why did the ringtail have to be right? If he had just been sleazier, if he'd just been more dishonest, if he'd just not fallen in love with her, if he'd just…not been such a romantic…

"I didn't at first…. I told the chief there was no way that the Sly Cooper I knew would never murder someone, at least not a civilian, or at least not unless that person had horribly hurt his friends and family…. He told me I had a soft spot for you, to look at the cold facts. All we had to go on was blunt force trauma, dancing night shadows on power lines and rooftops, and what we thought was your calling card. Then…there was the connection to me. The chief told me I'd built you into a fantasy man who could do no wrong…. I started believing I had been wrong, that you never really cared about me, that I had been duped and this was some cruel way of telling me I was a sucker. Sly, I know you enough to tell when you're being honest…I'm so sorry things happened like this."

There was dead silence in the room for a while, only the deep, soft breaths of the two, cop and robber, man and woman, both broken. "Haaah, Jean can wait," Sly finally spoke. "Let's catch the sick son of a bitch that got us into this." Carmelita saw the stall unlock and watched as a more lighthearted and determined raccoon begin walking to the door.

"It's good to have you back ringtail," the inspector admitted.

"You know, apart from hearing 'Old Iron Sides,' I don't think I ever came up with a nickname for you," Sly admitted.

"Watch it Cooper, I'm still testifying against you in court in three days," the she-fox warned.

"Yeah, how am I supposed to help you on this case if I get locked up?" Carmelita shook her head with a small grin before returning to her desk. "That was a serious question…"

"That question will have its answer at the end of your trial, which will be several weeks, maybe a month and a half from now. Until then, look into Renitskaya (Ren-eet-sky-uh), Bourdoon, and Philemon Greyclaw," Carmelita told her charge as she handed him the three largest files in her current pile. Sly noticed Juan's desk empty and gave a questioning twitch of the head, to which the inspector nodded.

**Author Notes: Once again, this is in no way an attempt to subvert or take credit for Living Paradox's ideas. I just thought his stories deserved an ending. I got some story notes from his friend. I won't be writing any sex into the story, but I really want to see this story completed. Review Please! Especially his long-time readers and critics. Help me recapture the magic.**


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